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by Amphithea
Summary: Frodo and Sam are seperated from the rest of the Fellowship and contemplate how their lives are changing. In other words, "Frodo and Sam Cuddle and Talk About Their Feelings" ;)


Disclaimer: Hobbits do not belong to me, etc., etc., but I'm going to borrow them for a little while anyway.  
  
*I suppose this is mostly movie-based, though there are certainly elements from the books that are not in the movie. I also suppose there are little hints of slash in here, but not much more than either version of the canon, so it's open to interpretation. One of these days I'll make more concretes decisions about my work. ;)*  
  
Samwise Gamgee carefully packed what was left of his pipe-weed into his pipe and lit it. He drew his Elven cloak around him tightly, shivering in the cold emptiness of the night. He looked over and could barely make out the shape of Frodo laying on the ground a few feet away from him. He puffed on the pipe silently. He had never been this afraid in his life, not even when they were being pursued by the Ringwraiths when they had first left the Shire. It was the first time that Sam was fully aware of the danger facing him and his Master. It was also the first time that he didn't feel the protection of the likes of Strider, of Gandalf, even of Gimli and Legolas. Nothing stood between Sauron and the Ring apart from himself and Frodo.  
  
And he would be damned if he was going to let the enemy get to Frodo. He would fight them all off himself or he would die trying.  
  
Sam was exhausted, but he was too terrified to sleep. Frodo had told him that it wasn't his place to stay awake and keep watch, but he did it anyway. It wasn't as if he was going to be able to get to sleep even if he didn't feel the need to protect his slumbering Master. Terror gripped him, and he heard noises everywhere. The lapping of the water on the banks of the Great River Anduin could be heard from their emcampment. The soft breeze rustling through the tree tops sounded like a thousand soft whispers. The slight crackling of the leaves as Frodo shifted uncomfortably on the ground sent shivers down Sam's spine, as if they were from beneath the feet of Orcs rather than from beneath his master. Sting lay beside him, however, unsheathed to warn them of such dangers, and it was currently dormant. There wasn't even a slight tinge of blue to it, which relieved Sam greatly. Still, there were other reasons he was afraid, and few of them had to do with the safety of their current position.  
  
They were close to Emyn Muil, only a day's journey on foot. They had spent the last day of their journey following the Anduin towards Mordor, but now they found that they would have to break away and continue their trek inland. Being this close to Mordor and understanding that there was no way of turning away from this heart of darkness now terrified Sam. He was scared to go on because of the potential consequences. He had already begun to see the corruption caused by the ring in the Ringwraiths and in Frodo's description of the actions of Boromir. He witnessed firsthand the way Gandalf was forced to sacrifice himself on behalf of the Ring. He knew what damage the little circlet of gold was capable of and he hated it.  
  
Most of all he was terrified of what effect it might have on Frodo. Sam felt no temptation whatsoever for it. He didn't want the power promised by the ring. He didn't want anything to do with it, if he were to be entirely honest. All he really wanted was the peace and comfort of the Shire, and no ring in the world could grant him that. For the first time since he had left, Sam allowed his mind to wander back to happier times. He thought of Frodo and Pippin and Merry as he once knew them. They once had been normal young hobbits, when Pippin and Merry's ridiculous games of tag or hide and seek were considered "adventurous". He recalled fondly one day when the three of them had dragged him away from his lessons in gardening with the Gaffer to go camping. He remembered the way they always treated him like he was one of them, not just a servant, though he always knew that that was all he was. He remembered Rosie Cotton, the prettiest hobbit in the Shire, whom he had admired for so long. He recalled the way Frodo, with that smirk that seemed simultaneously mocking and supportive, pushed him into more than one conversation with the girl. He remembered the way Frodo would tease him for being too shy to approach her and the way both of them stood in shocked silence when Pippin and Merry, after too many drinks, would talk about the hobbit girls in a way that would ensure both of their statuses as bachelors for life. Later, it was always inevitable that he and Frodo would seperate, no longer able to deal with the pair of druken hobbits, and go off star-gazing, talking of Bilbo's adventures and how Frodo longed for one of his own. Sam had agreed, however he had never truly desired to go journeying the way Frodo did. He was content to lie there and dream of it with his master by his side.  
  
And as he sat and puffed on the last of his pipe-weed he realized that he missed Frodo more than Pippin and Merry, or even Rosie. The realization confused him slightly as the only one of them with him at the moment was, indeed, Frodo. It wasn't, however, the same Frodo with whom he would once lie about and dream with. This Frodo was different. Since Rivendell he had had the same look of wide-eyed terror on his face. He would try to mask it, of course, and Sam doubted if the other members of the Company could even see through the mask, but he certainly could. He knew that Frodo's bravery was mostly to cover the fear that he felt. He had begun to act strangely as well, and he was terrified that the Ring had begun to take control of even Frodo. Sam would not for a moment turn his back on his beloved master, but he wished more than anything that he could bring him back to the Shire before it was too late. He wanted to take him back before he was changed forever. He longed to have simple, sweet, loving Frodo back. More than that he longed to have the simple, sweet days in the Shire back.  
  
He sighed deeply and cleaned out his clay pipe. Packing it carefully away, he rested back against a tree and rubbed his goose-pimpled arms briskly. Frodo, a few feet away, rolled over to face him. His eyes were closed, but he spoke anyway.  
  
"Sam, please sleep. You'll need your strength as much as I need mine," he yawned.  
  
"No, Master Frodo, I can't do that. I can't risk you being dragged off by some Orcs while I'm slumbering away," Sam refused. Frodo chuckled.  
  
"Don't be ridiculous, Sam. I can't imagine they'd just leave you here sleeping. I'm sure they're either take us both or kill us both. Either way you'll not lose track of me," Frodo said. Sam shifted uneasily as his companions words had failed to reassure him in any way.  
  
"I'll be just fine, you get back to sleep now," Sam insisted. Frodo opened his eyes and gazed up towards his friend.  
  
"I won't try to leave you again, Sam," he said earnestly. Sam paused for a moment. He had been struggling to ignore the pesky worry that Frodo would indeed leave him again, this time with no companionship, and little chance of ever seeing the Shire again. Though, he thought, it would hardly be worth going back to the Shire without Frodo.  
  
"I know that, sir," Sam lied, "it's just that I can't let anything happen to you. I-I promised Gandalf. And Sam Gamgee does not break his promises. So, if you sleep, then I'm awake. And if you're awake, well, then I'm awake. I won't take my eyes off you, not again. Not until we're both back home and safe."  
  
"I appreciate it Sam, but this is starting to get absurd. You're no use to me anyway, if you're too exhausted to keep up," Frodo replied.  
  
"I suppose you're right..." Sam said hesitantly.  
  
"Come here, Sam," Frodo whispered. Sam moved over and sat next to Frodo. The other hobbit pushed himself up, and gazed at Sam.  
  
"I just want you to get back home safe, Master Frodo," Sam whispered. Frodo smiled softly, then his forehead creased into a slight frown.  
  
"You're shivering from the cold," Frodo muttered, and wrapped his arms around Sam. His head rested on Sam's shoulder, his dark curls brushed against his cheek slightly. Sam could feel Frodo's fingers digging into his back slightly, and he glanced at him worriedly.  
  
"Not from the cold, sir," Sam murmered in reply. He heard Frodo sniff, and felt his chest heave against him. His master was crying and it was all Sam could do to keep from tears himself. He could almost feel Frodo's pain, and it stabbed right through him.  
  
"I'm so happy you're with me," Frodo said, "I couldn't do this without you. Without you Sam, I think I might have given up already. Only a day away from the Fellowship and already prepared to give in. I'm hardly worthy of being the Ring-Bearer. It ought to be someone brave like Strider or...or Gandalf. Oh, Sam! I've killed Gandalf! I brought us through Moria and it was because of me, because I'm so weak that he's dead now!"  
  
"Now now," Sam choked back his tears upon hearing Frodo's despair, "you're the bravest hobbit I've ever met. And you're the Ring-Bearer because, well, because you're good and kind, the likes of which are rare, even in hobbits! I know you want to give up, Master Frodo. I know because I want to as well, more than anything I want to go back home. But I know that you won't because you know what it means to everyone that you get rid of that silly Ring. And as long as you are on this quest I'll be by your side.  
  
"And besides, if you must find fault in anyone's actions, it was Pippin's what woke the Orcs." He heard Frodo chuckly slightly. He wasn't about to go into it, but Sam felt quite a bit of bitterness towards Peregrin Took. So many times already he had come so close to getting Frodo killed, he was worthless. The slight unease he had felt around the mischeivous Took back in the Shire, never knowing what prank he would pull next, had evolved along with the quest. But he knew how fond of him his master was, and he didn't want to upset him, so he kept his mouth firmly closed. Frodo suddenly pulled back, gazing searchingly into Sam's eyes.  
  
"Sam, this changes everything, doesn't it? Nothing is ever going to be like it was." Sam could see that Frodo was seraching him, looking for some sort of indication that yes, after all this was over and done, things *would* go back to normal. Sam wanted so badly to assure Frodo of this. But he averted his eyes and shook his head.  
  
"No, I don't suppose it will," he said.  
  
"Then I'm doubly glad that you're here to go through it all with me," Frodo smiled. Sam returned it and reached out to wipe the tears from his cheeks. Frodo laid back down and motioned for Sam to join him. He wrapped his arms around the other hobbit and rested his head against Sam's chest. Sam stroked his dark curls absentmindedly.  
  
"We'll get through this all right, Master Frodo. I know we will," Sam murmered, no longer fully aware of what he was saying as sleep began to overtake him. It didn't matter. It was his soothing comforting voice that was putting his master at ease. He knew because the old Gaffer would do the same for him when he was upset. He would hold him close and murmer reassuring things to him. Words he could never remember the next day, but the tone, the soft soothing voice, he would never forget. He felt Frodo nodding.  
  
"You really are a wonder, Sam Gamgee," Frodo said, "you really are. I just wonder where our path will lead us. Whether we get back to Hobbiton, or into the fires of Mordor." Sam froze momentarily at the thought of not returning home, but instead into the fires with the ring. The thought of being trapped for all eternity with the dreadful thing caused him to shudder and pull Frodo into atighter embrace.   
  
"Quiet now, Master Frodo," Sam murmered, "you need rest. We have a long way still ahead of us and no matter what I'll be with you until the end." Frodo nestled against Sam, at last finding the warmth and safety of home in his companion's arms. Sam curled his arms protectively around Frodo, placed a light kiss on his Master's forehead, and allowed himself to at last close his eyes and sink into the only restful sleep he'd had since he had left home. 


End file.
